Across The Seas
by Sonjadore
Summary: When Will vanishes, Elizabeth leaves Port Royal to find him with the aid of Jack Sparrow. But they soon discover that Will's disappearance is part of a dangerous conspiracy, one which threatens many more lives, and Will's time may be up.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. If I did, the sequels would have been WAY different.**

A/N:

-OK, new dark angsty story. I may as well post the warnings now. So: slavery, adult (cough) situations, torture, and possible rape.

-Another note: a couple characters will be OOC, namely Governor Swann and possibly Norrington.

* * *

Night in Port Royal. By all standards, the most peaceful part of the day. The heat of the day had dissipated, the streets quiet, every lantern and window darkened. But this night, one was still lit, one light at the house of the Governor.

The mansion itself was silent, all the servants having long since retired. The governor's daughter had also taken her leave, exhausted from the events of the day. Only the governor remained awake, barricaded in his study.

The wood-paneled room was lit by a single candle, the wax melting steadily to drip on the finely made oak desk. Weatherby Swann paid no mind to it, so focused was he on the task at hand. Brows furrowed, he read through each and every document carefully: requisitions, orders, promotion recommendations, arrest warrants…The only sound that could be heard was the scratching of his quill, intermittent with the rustling of paper and the occasional sigh.

Suddenly, all movement ceased, and the sound of a chair scraping back followed by the sound of pacing echoed through the cavernous room.

It was no use, Governor Swann thought. He had sequestered himself in his study in hopes of escaping the worries chasing themselves around his mind…worries about his daughter and one William Turner.

He'd liked the boy when he was younger…a good worker, with a sense of propriety…someone who knew his place. But things had changed of late. He'd become…bolder, that was the only word for it. Overambitious. The governor would not have minded so much, were it not at his daughter's expense.

He'd hoped - oh, how he'd hoped! - that his daughter's infatuation with the blacksmith had only been a product of her unfortunate run-in with those pirates, that her taste for adventure would soon diminish, that she would soon come to her senses. Surely she must have realized that a poor craftsman could never provide for her!

Perhaps she did…but now Turner has given her no choice, Swann thought angrily. She seemed to have been tricked into believing she loved him, when really, the boy would only break her heart in favor of some younger wench, one not in his daughter's condition. _Which was Turner's fault!_

He turned on his heel to unlock an ivory box on his desk, producing a weathered document.

When this particular "solution" had first been presented to him, he'd laughed at it. It hadn't even been a consideration! Who had the right to sign away a life like that? But now…

Swann sank back into his chair, fingers tapping pensively against his lips. He'd heard their reasons behind it, that it was only reserved for those against whom legal action could not be taken. And this was certainly one of those instances, wasn't it? Still…

He'd known Turner for almost all the boy's life. Could he condemn him to this fate? Was it even his place?

Another thought slid into the man's troubled mind:

_Everything I do, I do for my daughter._

His resolve set, the governor inked his quill and signed the parchment, signing away the life of William Turner.

TBC…

**So? What do you think? I know it's short, but this IS only the prologue. Please review!**


	2. Two Months Ago

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Pirates of the Caribbean. If I did, I would not encourage Sparrabeth rumors, and ended the third VERY differently!**

A/N:

*Hello readers! This chapter has been edited! I came home one day, re-read the original, and thought 'I can do better'. So, here we are!

*I know that Will's having nightmares about his father is a very common theme in post-COTB fan fiction, but I refuse to believe that someone who thinks that they have killed one of their parents would sleep soundly. I don't even sleep well when I feel that I've let down a friend!

*Many of the themes involving Will and Liz have also been covered in other fan fictions, so I'm not the first to think of them. But, honestly, when you have a pairing this great, there's bound to be repeats!

*The following chapters have also been edited to allow for the plot changes.

-Thanks to everyone who's shown interest in this!

-OK, adult themes ahead, nothing explicit. I do not write smut! Oh, yeah, and this is my first time writing that kind of thing, so go easy…please?

-Part of this is based on a sketch on Deviant Art called Honeymoon by crystaltear127 (which has since been removed by the artist. Darn!)

-And Norrington will not be OOC. He might have an OC relationship (absolutely no romantic interest in Elizabeth!), but aside from that, I'll try to keep him in character.

-Flamers shall be walked off a plank (seriously…find something more constructive to do!)

* * *

_**TWO MONTHS EARLIER**_

Elizabeth Swann stormed out of the mansion in a fury. _Who do they think they are?!_ She was perfectly capable of making her own choices! She already had; so why could no one accept it?

Oh, she had expected her "esteemed" others to object, and why not? It was scandalous enough when the two had just been friends. But her father…

God, Elizabeth had expected him to accept it. She was happy; she felt alive for once! So why did he insist that it was wrong; that it was just an infatuation brought on by her "traumatic experiences"…but all the other suitors that had been all but paraded in front of her had been perfectly dull, only interested in owning Elizabeth.

She aimed an angry kick at the well-groomed flowerbeds and determinedly set out for her one refuge: the blacksmith shop.

Her black mood almost immediately vanished as she stepped into the stifling heat of the forge. How could it not? His presence was reassuring, calming. Unashamedly, she let her eyes wander over his form, taking in his unruly dark hair, which had escaped from its cloth tie to fall over his face, the way his loose, white shirt stuck to his sweaty body, outlining his muscular torso and arms…

He hadn't noticed her sudden presence. Elizabeth bit her lip, a plan forming in her mind…did she dare?

It took less that three seconds to decide on an answer of "yes".

She waited until he had put down the half-finished sword and stepped away from the searing fire, reducing the risk of injury…and then she pounced, wrapping both arms around his waist and planting a kiss on the side of his neck, tasting salt. Her efforts were rewarded with a small "Ah!" of surprise.

Will Turner spun around to face his attacker, his dark eyes meeting the mischievous ones of… "Elizabeth!" he exclaimed, his face lighting up with happiness.

"Hello," she replied, leaning up to kiss him.

Will met her warmly, gently brushing his lips against hers. "What are you doing here?" he asked when they finally broke apart, slightly breathless.

Elizabeth rested her head on his shoulder. "I had to get away…I couldn't stand it anymore!"

She felt his chest rise and fall slowly as he sighed. "Who is it this week?"

Elizabeth tilted her chin up so she could meet his eyes. "What?"

"I'm not entirely blind, Elizabeth. Who was it this week?"

The young woman let her head drop again. "Henry Babington."

"And?"

"Will!" Elizabeth smacked his chest playfully. "He's arrogant! Arrogant and self-centered and thoughtless…_and _he's old enough to be my father…he's just like all the others." Elizabeth took a few breaths to calm herself before continuing. "_Why?_ Why does he insist on doing this? I love you; I always have! Why is that so hard to understand? You saved my life; I can't say as much for any of my other so-called suitors. That should be enough! But it just isn't," she said, defeated. "I've tried…God knows I've tried! All he ever says is that you're wrong for me; that you can't provide for me…That I should decide on someone more 'worthwhile'."

"I suppose he's standing on propriety. After all, that is what's expected of him. And you," he added as an afterthought. "Not that your disregard for propriety is a bad thing…I mean, it is for some, but not me, that's why I love you…well, it's not the only reason…"

Elizabeth giggled. "I think I know what you're trying to say. Thank you." Now that her fury had calmed (for the time being, at least), she could truly enjoy Will's company. She tipped her head back so she could see his beloved face. "Will, you look terrible," she murmured, for he really did. His face was pale, and his eyes were circled by dark shadows. His hands were bruised, and wrapped with several bandages.

Will smiled weakly. "Charming, Miss Swann."

"Don't try to divert me; it won't work. Are you ill?"

Will stepped away from her embrace, listlessly shuffling a few items around on a nearby work table. "No…nothing like that…"

"Then what is it?"

The blacksmith didn't answer for a few moments. Instead, he lifted an indescribable (to Elizabeth's untrained eye) object and examined it closely, frowning, before tossing it atop a scrap pile. "Nothing's wrong, Elizabeth. Just let it go."

Elizabeth scowled and planted her hands on her hips. "I am _not _going to 'let it go.' Just tell me what's wrong." He remained hunched over the table, his back to her. "Will?"

"I haven't been sleeping," he finally responded quietly.

The young woman's face was immediately filled with concern. "For how long?"

Will shrugged. "A couple of months, I guess. Since the _Pearl_…since the curse was lifted…"

Elizabeth's eyes widened with sudden comprehension. "Your father…?"

A nod. "I keep seeing him…" He broke off, his voice tormented. Shaking his head, he said, "Never mind. Forget I said anything."

His confession had been so unexpected that Elizabeth could find no response. She'd known that he had been plagued by similar thoughts in the immediate wake of the _Pearl's_ events, and she'd been quick to comfort him (despite his insistence that she need not), telling him that his actions had saved the lives of many, and that he had freed his father from a terrible fate. And for a time, her assurances seemed to alleviate his guilt, and the couple had spent several joyous weeks together, simply basking in the other's presence.

Of course, that had been before her dearest father began parading every eligible high-class gentleman before Elizabeth, hoping she would decide on someone 'worthy of her attentions.' She had been unable to slip away to the forge - in fact, this was the first time she had seen Will in weeks. So he had been left in the company of the drunken Brown and Bess the donkey with nothing to distract him from his crushing guilt and tortured thoughts.

Thus, Elizabeth said the only thing that came to mind. "Will, when was the last time you had a day off?"

The metal Will held fell to the floor with a crash. "What?"

Elizabeth's mouth twitched as she struggled to hide a grin at Will's shocked expression. It was as though she had suggested that he kiss Jack Sparrow full on the mouth! "A day off," she repeated. "When was the last time you just did nothing?"

Will laughed exhaustedly. "I'm afraid I can't. I have work…orders to fill…" He fell to his knees to recover the dropped object.

"Just one day?" Elizabeth wheedled. "That's all I'm asking."

"Elizabeth, I'd love to…but I just can't…I can't neglect my work…"

"But you're neglecting your health!" she exclaimed.

Will made a move to stand, but apparently forgot about the workbench: his head collided against the wood with a loud thud.

Elizabeth winced. "I believe that proves my point."

Will backed away, his eyes smarting, muttering something that sounded distinctly like a curse. "Won't your father send people to look for you?"

"They can look, but they won't find me."

She held her breath for a few moments. Will finally nodded. "Alright."

* * *

Henry Babington could not remember a time when he had been more humiliated. In the space of one hour, the lovely Miss Swann had questioned his manhood, implied that a rabble of pirates would be more adept at running his company, and finished by stating that she would rather be courted by an undead monkey, just before storming out of the mansion.

And who had she rejected him for? A common, filthy blacksmith.

Despite the Governor's assurances that her infatuation with Turner was merely a passing fancy, Babington had informed him that he was in desperate need of a solution before taking his own leave.

He swallowed the remainder of his brandy and slammed the glass down on his polished wooden desk. Henry Babington was not a man who took rejection well. He would have Elizabeth Swann. And for that, he needed William Turner out of the way. But the boy had been granted clemency (which he clearly did not deserve…had it been Babington's decision, Turner would have been hanged for piracy).

He needed the Governor's cooperation is he was to make Turner vanish. But how to convince him…?

An unpleasant smile spread across his face. It was too simple: he only needed to exploit Swann's weakness…his daughter.

"Edwards!" he bellowed, calling his elite spy. While that particular profession was not a mandate for a respectable household, it certainly was useful.

"Keep an eye on Miss Swann," Babington demanded as soon as Edwards entered the study. "I want to know everything she does outside the mansion."

Yes, he would have Elizabeth Swann one way or another.

* * *

The scene was picturesque: the turquoise water, gently lapping against golden white sand, the beach surrounded by lush green vegetation, hidden from prying eyes. The image brought back countless memories of playing pirates, of swimming in the warm waters, of sneaking out at night to watch the stars…and of later years, of the day Will had told her that they could no longer see each other…of the many lonely hours spent on the soft sands, longing for the company of the one person she could not see.

And now, five years later, they were once again together. Elizabeth smiled fondly at Will's reclined form. He appeared to be asleep, though, as Elizabeth watched, the corner of his mouth quirked into a small half smile. "I can feel you staring," he said, opening one eye.

"How terribly rude of me," Elizabeth quipped. "Please accept my apologies." She leaned forward to brush her lips against his. One of his hands cupped her cheek; the other rested on her back. Elizabeth sighed and rested her forehead against his. "And to think, a few months ago, you couldn't even say my name."

"Never again, I promise you." They kissed again, more passionately this time. "Marry me," he whispered.

Elizabeth pulled back. "Will?"

"Elizabeth, I love you. I always have." He gently brushed the hair out of her face, staring deeply into her caramel eyes. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes…yes!" Elizabeth cried joyfully.

Will laughed delightedly. "I don't have a ring…"

Elizabeth kissed him deeply. "I don't need a ring." She trailed a hand down the side of his face, tracing every line and angle. Her fingers ran down to his tanned chest, brushing the open collar of his shirt aside to expose more skin. Her nails grazed over his bare shoulders…

To her surprise, Will pushed her away. "We can't."

Elizabeth lowered her eyes to her hands. "I - I haven't seen you in weeks. I don't know when I'll be able to see you again. While we have this time…I want to be with you as wholly as possible."

A work-roughened hand closed over her own. She raised her eyes to meet Will's loving gaze. "Are you sure?"

She smiled. "I've never been so sure of anything in my life."

Will hesitated only a moment before pulling her into a searing kiss, sliding his hands down to her waist to bring her closer.

Elizabeth lost track of time and reason, melting beneath her lover's gentle touches, reveling in the feeling of Will's warm body pressed into hers, lost in their own paradise.

* * *

Elizabeth sighed contentedly as she ran her fingers through Will's thick, dark hair. His head rested upon her breast, his deep, even breaths rustling his discarded shirt, now draped over Elizabeth's delicate form.

Elizabeth had decided to let him sleep after he had dozed off, allowing him to receive some much-needed rest.

She fondly contemplated her beloved. When she had been kidnapped, he would have moved heaven and earth to find her. And he was a wonderfully tender and gentle lover, she thought with a smile. She had only felt the slightest of pains when they were finally joined.

Will stirred slightly. "Did I fall asleep?" he mumbled.

"You did."

He closed his eyes in embarrassment. "Sorry."

She smiled. "You needed the rest. Besides," she added, "I liked watching you sleep."

His eyes remained closed as he rested on her chest, though a small half-grin spread over his face. "I can hear your heart."

"What's it saying?" Elizabeth teased.

"I wouldn't presume to tell you." He gently caught her hand and brought it to his lips. Elizabeth marveled, once again, at how well they fit…

Will sighed and lowered their clasped hands. "It's getting late. We should be heading back."

She pouted. "Must we?"

"The world continues to turn. They'll miss us." He lifted a had to her shoulder. "I'm going to need this back."

Elizabeth smirked seductively and lifted the shirt from her slender frame with a whisper of cloth against skin. She delicately dropped it in Will's lap, and then rose from the blanket to collect her clothes. Will continued to gaze at her with adoration.

She could feel his gaze as she slipped into her chemise, and giggled slightly. "Were you planning to dress at all? You would cause quite a stir if you returned like that." The young woman stifled a laugh: she could almost sense Will blushing.

Minutes later, she felt his strong arms wrap about her waist and his warm breath upon her neck. She sighed happily and leant back into his embrace.

Will kissed her slender neck, letting her scent of lavender and vanilla wash over him. "Thank you," he murmured.

Elizabeth tilted her head back, enjoying her fiance's - how wonderful that sounded!- attentions. At this moment in time, there was nothing outside of her lover's tender touch.

_There is nothing on earth, _Elizabeth thought, _that could tear us apart._

TBC…

**So! This is the revised version. Plenty more W/E for you guys! If you're a registered user and would like to review this (I know you can't review a chapter twice), please send me a private message. Hope you liked it!**


	3. Conspiracy

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. If I did, the sequels would have been WAY different.**

A/N:

*Now revised! Elizabeth seemed a bit weepy to me, so I changed that.

-Sorry for the late update; I have had a major lack of inspiration of late. Thankfully, my head is almost fully clear of chemical formulas and polynomial equations.

-To SpufFan and Wills_Elizabeth23: Glad to hear it!

* * *

"Sir?"

Henry Babington looked up from his desk with an expression of irritation. "What now?"

"Sir, Miss Swann was seen with Turner shortly before she disappeared this evening."

"Do you know where they went?"

"No…"

"Do you know what they were doing?"

"No…"

"Then that's not much use to me, Edwards! Don't bother me again unless you have something worth telling!"

The weedy looking spy nodded. "Very well," he said, backing out of the room.

Babington sank back to his desk, rifling through papers until he found what he was looking for: a weathered, salt-stained document. A grim smile spread over his lips. All he needed was something to convince Governor Swann to sign it…

* * *

Elizabeth groaned and buried her head in the soft, downy pillows of her bed the moment the windows were drawn open. She had been abnormally exhausted of late. Of course, that particular affliction may have had something to do with her late-night meetings with Will: the previous night, they had ended up swimming in a certain state of undress.

One of the maids, Estrella, gently shook Elizabeth's shoulders. "Come on, miss. Time you were out of bed."

"Wotime'sit?" Elizabeth grumbled.

"Half-past nine, miss. The bath water's getting cold."

Elizabeth groaned again and, with an enormous effort, pushed herself onto her elbows. Her nostrils were immediately assailed by a sickly sweet scent. Her stomach turned. "Dear Lord, what is that ungodly stench?!" she exclaimed in disgust.

Estrella frowned at her mistress's language. "All I smell are roses," she replied, gesturing to the bath oils.

Elizabeth's stomach turned again, and she clapped a hand to her mouth. "I think I'm going to be sick." She bolted from her bed to slouch over a porcelain chamber pot, retching. She then coughed several times, trying to clear the burning texture from her throat.

She barely felt Estrealla's hands on her shoulders. "Miss?" The maid's cool hand felt her forehead. "You don't feel warm. It's probably not a fever. Well." Estrella straightened up, business-like. "Back to bed with you. You need rest. I'll inform the Governor."

Elizabeth waited until the last maid had departed, then sank back onto her cool, comforting sheets, the sour taste of bile lingering in her mouth. Her stomach continued to turn. What was wrong with her?

* * *

Elizabeth's unexplained "illness" continued for weeks. She often felt too groggy to leave her bed, though the doctor insisted on fresh air. Thus, she found herself wobbling through the mansion's gardens for a half-hour each day, the normally sweet smell of flowers overwhelming to her. She soon grew accustomed to the taste of bile in her mouth every morning.

Such as the morning hailing the third week into her illness. Elizabeth found herself, again, emptying the meager contents of her stomach into the chamber pot. As she straightened up, she noticed Estrella watching her with a curious expression.

"Miss," she began tentatively. "If it's not to bold for me to ask…when was the last you experienced your monthly?"

"Well…it…" Elizabeth's eyes widened. She hadn't seen the telltale blood since that afternoon on the beach with Will, which had been… "Almost two months ago…" Elizabeth whispered.

Estrella nodded slowly. "It may be too early to tell…but having five of the little ones myself…" she murmured, almost to herself. "Miss Swann, I believe you are with child."

The room seemed to fade around Elizabeth. Oh, God! It couldn't be! But…they had…And her father! What would he say? And when he discovered that the baby was Will's…Oh, Will! Her father would have him hung! And it would be her own fault…she had been the one to persuade Will into the act! She hadn't regretted it at the moment, hadn't even given a thought to the possibility of a child…Would he even want the baby? Would he even want _her_?

As Elizabeth slowly regained her senses, she realized that a concerned Estrella was still watching her. "You mustn't tell anyone," she instructed desperately. "Especially my father."

"Miss Swann, you won't be able to hide it forever. And should the governor ask…""He won't. I know he won't. I don't he's even allowed the idea of my having children before marriage has even crossed his mind. And I'll tell him. I just…have to do something first."

* * *

"Will?"

The young man turned from the forge to face Elizabeth. His warm smile dimmed as he saw the expression on her face. "Elizabeth? Is something wrong?"

Elizabeth said nothing, but stepped into his arms, burying her face in his chest, drawing comfort from his gentle embrace. She felt a calloused hand cup her cheek, tipping her face upwards. She lifted her gaze to meet Will's loving, concerned eyes.

"You know you can tell me anything," he murmured.

"I'm…I think I'm with child. Our child."

Silence met her pronouncement. "I put you in this position," Will finally said. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing for you to apologize for." She took a deep breath. "Will, I understand if you don't want the child…I understand if you…if you want to break our engagement…"

Will caught the crystalline tears escaping from her amber eyes. "Don't even think that. I love you. Both of you," he added, his hands sliding to rest upon her abdomen. "And I will take care of you."

Elizabeth gave a watery laugh: how could she ever have doubted Will? Her childhood friend, her lover, her fiancé?

Will sank to his knees. "We'll find a way." He gently kissed her belly. "I promise."

Unbeknownst to both of them, a figure darted from the shadows, having heard the whole conversation.

* * *

Babington settled back into his chair, an unpleasant expression of satisfaction on his cold face. "Your payment," he said, gesturing to a weighty bag of gold. Edwards accepted his payment with a nod, and backed out of the room.

Babington turned his attention back to the papers on his desk. The document had already been written, but it was not complete. He had yet to obtain the authorization from the highest level of authority: the seal of the governor. And with the development brought to his attention by Edwards, convincing Swann to sign the parchment would be easy.

He almost laughed: the young fools had played straight into his hand!

* * *

"Governor, I am afraid that I am nor merely here for a social visit. I am afraid that I have some rather…disconcerting news concerning your daughter."

Swann sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "What has she done now?"

Babington suppressed a grim smile. "It's not what she's done. But out of concern for Miss Swann, I will let her tell you the details." It would be more devastating for the governor to hear the news from his daughter. "Suffice it to say that this concerns her…highly inappropriate relationship with that Turner boy."

"Merely an infatuation, I assure you. She will come to her senses soon enough."

"Be that as it may, this development may inhibit her freedom to decide upon a better suitor. _You _must…take care of this situation yourself."

He had Swann's attention now. "What exactly are you proposing, Mr. Babington?"

"You need Turner out of the way."

"I certainly hope you're not proposing that I have him murdered!"

Babington produced an envelope out of his gilded jacket. "No, nothing like that. This solution will have Turner removed from Port Royal, but will allow him to keep his life. You see, Governor, the laws are not as thorough as they ought to be. No judge here would convict Turner, not after you granted him clemency." _Which I wager you regretted when Elizabeth broke her engagement with the Commodore - an honourable man - in favour of that gutter rat, _he added to himself. "Nor will Miss Swann say a word against him. Yet, since the fault lies with Turner alone for your daughter's predicament, he deserves to be punished." He slid the thick envelope across the polished table. "All you need to do is sign this paper."

Swann slit the envelope open and withdrew the worn document. He skimmed through it quickly. "And…this is legal?"

"With your signature, it will be."

Babington watched as Swann mulled it over. Much to his surprise, the governor shook his head. "I cannot condemn anyone to this."

Henry shrugged and stood to leave. "Suit yourself. But keep the document. Just in case you change your mind."

**TBC…**

**Next chapter: the truth comes out! Oh, dear…**

**Please review!**


	4. Gone

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. If I did, the sequels would have had WAY more Willabeth moments, and absolutely NO Sparrabeth!**

A/N:

-I am SO sorry for the late updates; the first term is coming to an end, and I have a LOT of work to do. Fortunately, I'm taking Language Art next term, which should help for inspiration. Thanks for bearing with me!

-Italics are flashbacks.

-If anyone thinks that Elizabeth is out of character in this chapter…she's two months pregnant. One word: hormones. Yikes.

-To Wills_Elizabeth23: Yes, there will be lots of Willabeth hurt/comfort…but not for a while, unfortunately…

-To Smithy: *gasps* Is it possible? A review from the legendary Smithy? I'm honored! …though I have to admit, I'm not too sure how to interpret the first part of the review… (no insults intended).

* * *

It was storming in Port Royal. Rain tumbled from the sky to roll off of palm trees and eavesdrops before finishing their course in the dirt roads below. No person with an ounce of common sense lingered on the streets.

It was for this reason that Conrad Wright had waited.

They had received the "warrant" a few days previously. Wright had been dispatched immediately; after all, one did not ignore a request from a governor, no matter the size of his jurisdiction. Power was power.

The burly man paused to wipe a few raindrops off his nose. He'd been meticulously planning ever since he had been informed of his so-called duty: his assignment was not one to be taken lightly.

Wright silently pushed open a door beneath a hammer and tongs insignia. There was no one in the smithy, as expected: the master took to the local pubs early in the evening, retuning in the late hours of the morning to sleep off his liquor.

The man stopped the moment he entered to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness: one false move, one noise, and all his planning would have been for naught. The boy, from what he had heard, was no novice with a sword.

Silent as a shadow, Wright slid across the room's expanse to the door leading to the living quarters. This, too, he noiselessly opened. A grim smile played over his lips as he spotted his target.

The young man, fully clothed aside from his boots, laid sleeping on a rough cot. A knife rested close to his hand. Wright moved it aside.

He then allowed himself to survey the young man. His tall frame was finely muscled, no doubt from his blacksmithing work. A strong lad, to be sure, and one with sailing experience, supposedly. And even if he wasn't found useful for physical labor, he had a fair face…fairer, in fact, than some of the wenches that men paid a ridiculous amount for at port.

Yes, William Turner would fetch a very good price.

* * *

Elizabeth was in disgrace. The news that she was with child - a _blacksmith's _child at that - had spread like wildfire.

Most seemed to think that Will had somehow taken advantage of her. Elizabeth's explanations only made things worse, serving only to garner false sympathy for her, and assurances that she didn't mean what she was saying, that the "Turner boy" had brainwashed her. She couldn't even repeat some of the things they said about Will. They had no right! He was a better man than anyone else could even hope to be. And her father…

Oh, he hadn't taken the news well at all.

"_I beg your pardon?"Elizabeth steeled herself. "I'm…I'm pregnant, Father."_

_Her father stood sharply and crossed the room, his back to his daughter. Elizabeth thought she could see a vein pulse in his neck. "And?" he finally asked, a forced calm in his voice. "Whose is it?"Elizabeth cringed. "Will's," she mumbled._

_That was all it took._

_Swann spun around, fury in his eyes. "As in Turner?"_

"_It's not what you think! _I_ wanted it. _I_ asked him to…"_

"_Because he gave you no other choice!"_

"_No! I seduced him!"_

_There was dead silence in the room for a moment before her father spoke again. "I thought I raised you better than that."_

"_Better than what?""Than to act like…a common whore."_

_Elizabeth's temper flared. "How dare you!" she shrieked. "He loves me! That's more than I can say for you!" _

"_Elizabeth!"_

_She couldn't be stopped. "He risked everything when I was kidnapped! Everything! He rescued me while you did nothing!"_

"_That's not…"_

"_I would be dead if not for him! doesn't that count for anything? He saved my life!""And for that, I am grateful…"_

"_You've got a funny way of showing it!"_

"_I granted him clemency. Listen to reason, Elizabeth," Swann pleaded. "He couldn't possibly take care of you, let alone a child. Are you even sure he would want this…"_

"_He promised! He promised he'd look after us!"_

"_And what is that worth, the promise of a pirate?"_

"_A promise from Will Turner! It's worth the world! Oh, but you wouldn't know that, would you? You don't know him! You don't even know me!"_

"_I'm your father!""You were too busy for me! After mother died, I was all but raised by a governess. Sometimes I wondered if you were even aware that you had a daughter! I suppose you realized that you did when I grew up and became of value! You tried to win me over with pretty things, only to plot 'smart matches' behind my back!"_

"_I only want what's best for you!""THEN LET ME MAKE MY OWN CHOICES!"_

"_Which you are clearly not capable of!" Swann took a few breaths, then spoke in a low, deadly tone. "You will not see that boy again."_

"_Father!"_

"_Don't argue with me! You're lucky that I haven't signed his execution warrant!"_

_"No!"_

_Her father continued as if he had not heard her. "You will not leave the mansion without an escort. If I so much as hear that you have been with Turner, then I _will_ have him arrested."_

* * *

A boat was already waiting by the time Wright reached the private bay. The two oar hands stood upon seeing his approach.

The slimmer one smirked. "How'd ya bust yer mouth?"Wright angrily swiped at his split lip. "The bastard fought back," he growled, roughly dropping his burden to the ground.

"S'at him?" the second man grunted, gesturing at the crumpled, sheet enshrouded figure with a burly arm.

"Aye." Wright kicked aside the sheet to reveal the unconscious form of Will Turner. The boy was bound and gagged. His kidnapper shrugged in an offhand manner. "He made too much of a racket. Get him in the boat."

* * *

Elizabeth stared blankly at a point on the glossy wood-paneled wall, desperately trying to block out the meaningless conversation around her.

Part of her wondered why Henry Babington still spoke to her. Ever since the news of her pregnancy, she'd become something of a social pariah, something to be avoided like a disease. She'd rather enjoyed it…the less attention she got, the more opportunities she would have to leave Port Royal with Will…theoretically. Both her father and the servants had been watching her like a hawk.

"Elizabeth?" She forced herself out of her stupor at the sound of her name, turning to face her father. Consternation showed on his face. Elizabeth remained expressionless. "Yes?"

"I believe Mr. Babington was speaking to you."

Elizabeth groaned inwardly. Well, the expected response was probably best, considering that she hadn't even heard the question…or half of the conversation. "Oh, yes. Of course."

The man smiled. To Elizabeth, it looked more like a satisfied smirk. "It's what I've been telling you, Governor. She didn't have a say in the matter." Elizabeth immediately stiffened. "You mustn't blame your daughter. The fault lies with Turner alone."

"And what fault would that be?" Elizabeth asked coldly.

"Your current condition, Miss Swann," Henry Babington said in a condescending tone.

"My _condition_?"

"Elizabeth…" Governor Swann said, a warning in his voice.

"Oh, he's a guest, father. It would be rude to ignore his misguided opinion."

"It's quite alright, dear," Henry Babington said in what she clearly thought to be a comforting tone. "This type of…experience is quite traumatic. You're frightened. I don't know what the boy had threatened you with, but you are perfectly safe."

Elizabeth flew to her feet. "Don't talk about him like that! Don't even pretend you know _anything _about this! I love him, but I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand!"

"Elizabeth!"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Elizabeth screamed. She turned on her heel and flew out of the room, through the front doors, and out of the mansion, towards the only sanctuary she knew.

* * *

Elizabeth knew something was wrong the moment she arrived at the forge. The door was ajar, but the interior was shrouded with darkness. Will never left the forge unlit during the day…She tentatively stepped inside. She allowed a few minutes for her eyes to adjust before stepping forward.

She immediately spied a figure slumped over a chair. Her heart leapt for a moment, only to sink again as the smell of strong spirits reached her nose. "Mr. Brown?" she called.

Silence greeted her words before she heard a drunken slur. "Who'zair?"

"Miss…Aaronson. Is Mr. Turner here?"

The drunken blacksmith squinted at her for a moment before answering. "'E's gone, in'ne?"

Elizabeth's heart stopped. "What do you mean, 'gone'?"

Mr Brown snorted. "I mean gone. I come in 'iss mornin', forge unlit…bas'ard's run off." He snorted again. "Lousy ingrae…"

Elizabeth nodded, trying to keep her tears at bay. "I see," she whispered. "Thank you." Feeling her world spinning around her, Elizabeth backed out of the stuffy room, slumping on the ground the moment the door closed behind her.

"Miss? Miss Elizabeth?" The girl felt a gentle touch on her shoulders. "What are you doing here?" Elizabeth raised her tear-streaked face to see Estrella leaning over her. "My goodness…Miss, are you alright?"

"He's gone," Elizabeth whispered in shock.

Estrella helped her charge to her feet. "Come on, Miss…You'll be alright…Everything will work out…"

Numb, Elizabeth allowed herself to be guided back to the mansion.

* * *

"Elizabeth?" Her father gently opened the door. Elizabeth didn't even acknowledge him. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I have been rather harsh on you these past few days." She continued to ignore him.

"I suppose I was merely worried for your future. I want you to be well-looked after, and this current…complication could damage that future."

"Is that all you care about?"

"I care about you. Turner couldn't possibly have taken care of you…"

"You don't know that! He loves me! That's all I need!"

Her father shifted uncomfortably. "Are you quite sure? As I understand it, he has left Port Royal… Perhaps he does not want you nor the child."

"How can you say that?" Elizabeth whispered.

"Is it so unbelievable?" Weatherby sighed. "Elizabeth, you will hate me for saying this, but Turner is no longer a part of your future. And your chance for a future lies with whatever is left of your reputation." He paused. "Henry Babington has extended a marriage proposal."

Elizabeth turned. "What?"

"I have accepted on your behalf."

"No…" Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. "How could you do this to me?"

"I want you to have a future. Someday, you may thank me for this." Her father was quiet again, then added, "I did this for you."

Elizabeth waited until he had left before throwing herself down on her bed, finally allowing herself to cry. "Will, where are you?" she whispered brokenly.

**TBC…**

**Oh, dear. Next chapter: what really happened to Will? Reviews may encourage me to post soon! **

**As an aside note: now that we all know that Elizabeth is pregnant, I'd like to give you a chance to decide whether they should have a little boy or girl. The poll is on my profile. Personally, I'm leaning towards boy, but if I get enough votes for a girl, I may be swayed!**


	5. Taken

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. If I did…lacking witty comment. Damn.**

A/N:

-I am so, so very sorry for the late update: I had to get through semester two, which meant finishing two new subjects, as well as finishing four subjects that I'd neglected in the first semester…whoops! And I know I said that I'd probably have an update by the end of June…boy, did I underestimate my perfectionism! I was writing, but wasn't satisfied with anything I came up with! On top of that, we got landed with a heat wave, and I got heat sick, and wasn't up to much during that time. And I wanted to give you guys a decent update after that dry spell…and this chapter's still crap! So please accept this author's apologies. You may disembowel me in your reviews with pointy words.

-As stated in the previous chapter, later parts in the story are similar to A Pirate's Life and Death by Ecri. And I strongly suggest you read it.

-To Wills_Elizabeth23: I'll keep updating if you keep reviewing ;). Just kidding. There is NO chance of me abandoning this story. I like Willabeth hurt/comfort WAY too much. …But reviews are nice…

-A note about the poll: If you, for any reason, are unable to vote, please include your choice in a review or private message. NO STACKING.

-Some Will ouchies in this chapter; nothing too horrible…yet. (Evil Laugh)

-Part in here reminiscent to Titanic; it was just too perfect!

-I'm also planning to do some editing on chapters one and two (and possibly three…I'm a perfectionist!). It will affect the current plot, so keep checking in! (Parts of this chapter are going to be explained in the revised version of Two Months Ago, which should be posted pretty soon.)

* * *

When the room was once again illuminated by a blinding flash of lightning, Will resigned himself to yet another sleepless night.

He needed the rest; there was no doubt about that. He knew that he'd been working far too hard, and far too much of late. He needed to, he rationalized, to prove to the Governor that he _could _care for Elizabeth and their baby. Will had not seen Elizabeth since she had told him of the child. He had, however heard of Henry Babington's proposal…and the Governor's intention to accept on Elizabeth's behalf. And then there were the nightmares…

Will gritted his teeth and buried his face in his stiff, scratchy pillow. He could remember catching fireflies as a child…how the insect would repeatedly slam into the sides of the bottle, futilely trying to escape its glass prison…how the orange glow would diminish until it was finally extinguished…how the delicate body would eventually crumple until all that remained was a morbidly beautiful corpse. And the baby…

If Elizabeth was forced into a marriage with Babington, she would never be allowed to keep the child. The babe would be remanded to the orphanage…Will shuddered at the thought. It was always cold there, the children were underfed, and disease was rampant. Maybe the child would be taken as an apprentice only to suffer more abuse at the hands of their "master". Will had been lucky, and he knew it…yes, Brown was a useless drunkard, but Will had been spared from the horrific abuse suffered by many apprentices. He'd known a boy, a stable hand, who had hung himself in the barn…the girl who had been taken advantage of by the tailor…

No longer were his nightmares haunted by his father's lifeless face. Now, his mind's eye could only see his beloved Elizabeth, trapped, slowly dying inside a lavish glass prison, and a faceless child, lying beaten and lifeless in some dark corner.

Will's eyes snapped open, and he rolled over to lie on his back. But the images seemed to be branded on his eyes. He finally gave into the instinctive childish defense that if he did not sleep, he would not dream. He sighed and fingered the rings he had taken to wearing around his neck. He'd completed them only a week ago, and had planned to present them to Elizabeth the moment he had finished. Unfortunately, this had proved impossible. So he had placed them on a leather string and kept them around his neck, close to his heart at all times.

The rings were nothing extravagant: he'd carefully saved the spare gold from various projects and commissions. One was a simple gold band; the other had been detailed with ocean waves and set with a roughly cut sapphire. A diamond had been out of the question. It had taken almost three month's pay to purchase the simple blue stone. Will silently thanked whatever powers there were that he had also briefly apprenticed for a carpenter; he couldn't fathom owning a home without his acquired skill.

Hoping to relieve his mental turmoil, Will groped blindly for the battered cover of one of his few books. The well-read novel fell open to the first page: _Two households, both alike in dignity_…well, that was hardly true…_ A pair of star cross'd lovers take their lives_…Will thumbed through the pages. _Now Romeo is beloved and loves again_…Romeo was an idiot. He'd only known Juliet a few minutes…Will had known Elizabeth for almost his whole life. _That I shall say good night till it be morrow_…Lord, he was tired…_Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, so soon forsaken? Young men's love then lies not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes_…he'd only ever loved Elizabeth…he loved her as wholly as anyone could. _Be merciful, 'say death;' for exile hath more terror in his look_…he couldn't see her…_She shall be married to this noble earl_…noble, but she did not love him…_Be not so long to speak; I long to die_…he could not let that happen. _Sleep for a week; for the next night_…Will's eyes slid shut, only to open again the next moment.

He could not sleep. He wouldn't.

_Stay awake…stay…awake…_

_

* * *

_

_Even asleep, he could feel the hair standing up on the back of his neck, the shivers down his spine…the undeniable sense that he was not alone._

Will's eyes snapped open. Once his vision cleared, he was greeted by a nightmarish scene: a darkened figure was looming over his cot!

A strangled yelp escaped the boy's throat, and he lunged for the knife he kept beside the cot, only to find that it wasn't there. The figure lunged at him. Will instinctively lashed out, managing to kick his aggressor. The man fell back with a muffled grunt, giving Will time to roll away. His hands frantically mapped the floor, searching for the knife, a loose stone, anything that could be used as a weapon.

A booted foot was suddenly brought down on Will's hand while an arm simultaneously wrapped around his neck, dragging Will upright. He struggled fiercely, trying to land an elbow in the other man's stomach or ribs. The attacker responded by tightening his grip around the boy's throat.

Will now gasped for air. His vision was beginning to swim…a roaring sound had filled his ears…his limbs had turned to jelly and gave out beneath him…the only thing supporting him was the choking arm…

Will made one last feeble attempt to free himself from the choke hold before his world faded into darkness.

* * *

Consciousness seemed to come back by degrees. Sound reached him first: the lapping of water, the babble of low voices, though Will could not understand what they were saying. Feeling began to return to his body. His head was spinning. His cheek was pressed against something rough, and his mouth was dry and felt as though it were filled with cotton. A moment later, he realized that it actually was: he was gagged.

Will opened his eyes, groaning as his retinas were hit with a searing light. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was the intruder in the smithy who seemed determined to strangle him. He clearly wasn't dead; the pain in his head told him that much. The surface beneath him rocked again, and Will gasped. He was on a boat!

By now, Will's vision had cleared enough to make out the other figures on the watercraft. One, clearly the leader, sat at the bow. He was dressed in dark clothes. Will guessed that this was the man who attacked him. The others appeared to be his lackeys and were quite burly. They were hunched over…something. Squinting, Will was able to see that they were rowing. That meant that he was in a longboat…and that meant that he was still relatively close to land…

Will's brow furrowed. Should he make a run for it? The other occupants did not seem to be aware that he was awake. The gag could prove problematic, but it could easily be removed…his bonds were the larger concern: his hands were bound, but his legs remained free…he _could _swim to shore, provided it wasn't too far away…

Will gritted his teeth as much as he could…the logistics meant nothing! He'd made a promise to Elizabeth, and he'd be damned if he was going to break it. His hands wandered up to the rings around his neck…his promise…he would not let her face the upcoming months alone.

His mind made up, Will pulled the gag from his mouth before pushing himself onto his knees, and flung himself overboard.

All sound ceased the moment the warm Caribbean waters closed over his head. Will kicked furiously, determined to put as much distance between him and the longboat as possible, as fast as possible. Unless his captors happened to be blind and deaf, they would not have missed him jumping overboard.

He could hear shouts when he surfaced. Will didn't bother to turn around: he knew they were pursuing him, and the action would have slowed him. Will simply kept his eyes on the shoreline.

However, his eyes were met again with an unwelcome sight. The shoreline was abandoned. He must have been facing the other side of the island…meaning that he would have a long run back…with three men, who were definitely at an advantage…his head was already spinning, his sides burning…

And then the pain intensified as a deafening 'crack' rang through the still air. Will's body jerked, and he accidentally inhaled a substantial amount of seawater. He hacked to clear his lungs, sending jolts of pain through his body. The water around his body was turning red. He brought his hand down to his side, feeling torn fabric and flesh, and the horrible realization sunk in: _he'd been shot. _His strength left him, and soon he lay perfectly still in the water, struggling to stay afloat.

It seemed that centuries had passed before Will felt himself being pulled roughly aboard the longboat. He curled up at the bottom of the boat, blood and water pooling around him. He pressed his bound hands against the wound, biting his lower lip to hold back a cry of pain.

Voices began to break through his tormented haze. "You fool!" a cold voice roared.

"Ye told us to stop him," a rougher voice responded. "And it worked, dinnit?"

"Do you think you will receive payment if he dies?"

_Payment?_ Will vaguely wondered.

The cold voice was giving orders again. "You will keep him alive, or you will take his place!"

That was all Will remembered before he was overwhelmed by darkness once again.

* * *

He could hear the familiar sound of a smoldering fire and smell heated metal. The air was heavy and humid, pressing down on his bare torso, slowly suffocating him. His side was burning with an agonizing pain…

Will forced his eyes open, and unbidden whimper escaping his lips.

"He's awake," a weedy voice said. "Hold him down."

Rough hands were immediately clapped down on his arms and legs. A piece of leather was jammed between Will's teeth. A foul smell permeated the air just before something splashed onto the raw flesh of the bullet wound. Whatever it was, it stung terribly, drawing a small cry from the wounded young man. The man who had poured the liquid now felt inside the wound. "Shot clear through," the weedy voice commented. "That will make things easier."

Will turned his head slightly so he could watch the man's progress across the room. He withdrew something from a glowing brazier, and crossed back to his 'patient'. Will's eyes widened in alarm as he saw that the man was holding a piece of metal, glowing red with heat.

A scream was torn from Will's throat the moment the red-hot metal was pressed against his wound. The acrid smell of his burning flesh brought bile to the back of his throat. He had sustained accidental burns during his time at the smithy, but this pain…it was beyond anything he had ever felt.

Then the iron was withdrawn, and the weight lifted from his limbs, and Will was left lying on the rough floor, involuntary tears of agony escaping his shut eyes, his side still burning. He could hear several scraping sounds, followed by a resounding clang. Will opened his eyes again, finally viewing his surroundings, slowly realizing that he was locked within a ship's brig. A coarse face was leering at him through the bars, showing off impressively rotted teeth. "Comfortable?" he chortled.

Will decided not to dignify the inquisition with a response.

"Boss'll be down later…wants to make sure ye dun' have anything' else valuable on yer person." The brute gave Will a most unpleasant grin as he departed.

Will was suddenly seized by a wave of panic…what did he mean by 'anything else valuable?' He waited until he could no longer hear the heavy footfalls, and then felt frantically about his neck, closing his eyes in absolute relief as he found the familiar weight of the rings. For a while, he merely leaned against the hull, the rings clenched in his fist.

He had to hide them. While the brute's words were a mystery to him - as far as Will knew, he had been carrying nothing else of value - the rings would be the first thing this 'Boss' would take. While Will put almost no value on material things, the rings symbolized so much…the love he shared with Elizabeth, his promise to her, their plans to marry…

He removed the rings from around his neck, wincing as the movement stretched his seared flesh. He then yanked the leather tie from his hair and, using his teeth, tore it in half, and wrapped first one ring, then the other, in the leather strips. Raising them to eye level, Will examined his work. Not a trace of gold or blue could be seen. They now looked like nothing more than a peasant's trinket, nothing valuable at all. Satisfied, he re-tied them around his neck and resumed his position against the hull. He soon dozed off into an uneasy sleep, a name on his lips:

_Elizabeth…_

TBC…

**Well…there it is. Please review.**


	6. Author's Note

A quick note to all my loyal readers: I'm very, very sorry for disappointing you, but this is not a new chapter. This is actually a heads-up that there probably won't be a new chapter for a very long time.

My word-processing program crapped out on me a few months ago. Not only did that interfere with my story, but it also prevented me from finishing one of my courses on time. Now that the program is back in working order, my main focus will be to finish that course, as well as the three additional courses this semester. Aside from that, I am also involved in a stage production. I have 2-3 hour rehearsals almost every day.

So I'm really sorry to announce that Across the Seas will be put on a temporary hiatus. I'll be back sometime during the summer, hopefully with several new chapters for you. My continued thanks for your reviews and your patience!


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